


Those Everyday Things

by Makkoska



Series: Small Things [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: "What If" fic, Adoption, M/M, Sequel, a few OCs - Freeform, canon-ish AU, old konoha, same-sex parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makkoska/pseuds/Makkoska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A more or less ordinary day in the not-so-ordinary life of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara. Sequel to “It’s the Small Things”, HashiMada yaoi, oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Everyday Things

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: AU (with canon-ish settings), yaoi, unbetad text
> 
> A/N: Long author notes are never a good sign. They are just the same as instructions from the writer how to recognise thoughts (in italics/bold/between ‘...’) or writing FLASHBACK before a flashback scene. They can mean two things – either the author is not confident in her own skills to make the readers understand what is happening, or doesn’t trust the readers to be smart enough to get it without previous explanation. So, as it is getting a long note already, I’ll resist the urge to explain how the idea occurred to me, why I think it’s plausible with this pairing and how it fits with It’s the Small Things (what by the way should be read first, as this might not make much sense otherwise), and just hope the story will talk for itself. 
> 
> A/N #2 (see, it’s #2, so doesn’t count into the length of the first one): is there any etiquette how long a one-shot can be? Though this is over 7000 words, I couldn’t find any logical points where to break it up to chapters. Plus I have to feel nervous about posting only once this way.

 

“Dad. Dad! Da-aad!”

 

Hashirama opened his eyes to a crack and peered up at his daughter, who so nicely woke him with shouting right into his ear. Realizing he was lying on his stomach, nude just as he had been when falling asleep last night, he carefully reached back to make sure the blanket thrown over him covered all inappropriate places. Relieved that it did, he smiled at the obviously excited Aina.

 

“Yes? What it is, darling?”

 

“Madara-san sent me to wake you!”

 

“I’ve told you so many times,” Hashirama sighed, “that you can call him Dad as well.”

 

“He said I shouldn’t. And also that I,” Aina bit her lower lip, obviously racking her brain to recall the exact words, “should address you with proper respect as well. And something about not being an Uchiha and not being a Senju either. And that he’s actually glad for the second, because like this there’s still a chance for me to become a normal person, if I don’t spend too much time with you. I wish,” she took a big breath and let it out in one heartfelt sigh, “he would like me more.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Hashirama muttered, sitting up and pulling the cover around him.

 

“But he loves you!”

 

“You think so?” he asked, messing her adopted daughter’s short, brown hair. He actually thought she resembled him in behaviour as much as looks, and was proud of it, no matter how many times Madara reminded him that it was just his imagination.

 

“ _Everyone_ knows that!” she declared.

 

“You know, he likes you too, he just doesn’t show it much.”

 

“Hmm...”

 

“So why did he sent you? And where is he?” It was, after all, still terribly early.

 

“He’s outside arguing with Uncle Tobirama.” Aina glanced longingly at the door, as if she just remembered she was missing the show. Hashirama repressed a swear.

 

“He’s back already? Tell them I’ll be there in a moment, will you? And ask them try not to kill each other by that time...”

 

“Ok!” his daughter jumped to her feet, happy with her task.

 

“But don’t step in between them, do you hear me?” he called after her, looking around for his clothes. They were scattered all about, marking a path from the door to the bed. He’d been in a hurry to undress last night, but both he and Madara were keyed up after the attack and fight with the offense of Lightning...

 

“Are you _naked?!”_ the girl asked, looking back over her shoulder, wrinkling up her nose, managing to fit all of her eleven-year’s distaste for old, thirty-ish man like him into that one word.

 

“Just go.”

 

He quickly dressed into last night’s clothes and run his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth out the worst of the tangles.

 

His lover and brother were indeed out in the garden, glaring at each other, though at least no weapons were drawn at this point. It was ridiculous how badly they got on with each other still. Hashirama suspected they just enjoying being hostile.

 

He wondered what the argument was about this time. Madara was clasping Noboru’s hand tight as if afraid Tobirama might seize him and run away. He was really protective of their youngest son, maybe because he resembled Izuna with his sharp little face, huge dark eyes and messy black hair. Well, he was an Uchiha after all. Hashirama wondered if Madara looked similar when he’d been that young – a pity he never met him that early, he must have been _cute.._. His lover never made it a secret that he’d favour the child they adopted from his clan. Hashirama himself had quickly given up on the idea of raising a Senju orphan as well, feeling that would really be pushing the boundaries. And honestly, he never minded - he loved all three of them as if they were his own.

 

Putting on a somewhat strained smile, he did what he just advised his daughter against and stepped in between the men. Two sets of angry eyes now glared at him.

 

“Good morning,” he greeted them calmly. How could everyone be up, dressed properly and even full of energy enough to argue so early? Not just Madara and Tobirama, both of them being annoyingly morning persons, but even the kids. Was he the only one here who required sleep at seven in the morning, especially when everyone went to bed so late? Madara and he had been fighting a small, but determined group of attackers last night. Then the whole village wanted to talk to them afterwards, before they could get home and reassure the kids they were all right – they were orphans of shinobi, with a well-founded fear that their parents one day wouldn’t return from a battle, as it happened to them before. It was after midnight when they could finally close the door of their bedroom behind them, and had the chance to release the tension of the fight in a very passionate and satisfying manner, which also took rather long – therefore he was not rested at all.

 

Their sons called out ‘good morning’ dutifully and Aina waved at him cheerfully, but Madara just snorted and turned away. Tobirama looked him up from head to toe.

 

“Get dressed brother, and let’s get going.”

 

“But I’m dressed!”

 

“He was _naked_ when I woke him up,” Aina told her uncle in a conspiratorial whisper that everyone could hear. The boys giggled. Tobirama’s face made it obvious that he could have lived without that information.

 

“Honestly, you can’t go out looking like this. A man of your position should really have the appropriate clothes ready when getting out of bed,” he glanced pointedly at Madara. Hashirama quickly took a sidestep, so his lover only bumped into his back as he turned towards Tobirama in anger.

 

“What are you saying, Senju?” he growled, grabbing his shoulder and trying to shove him out of the way, but Hashirama stood his ground. “I’m not his _wife,_ nor his servant,to do the housework and make sure he puts on clean clothes!”

 

“Then what are you, that’s what I’d like to know...”

 

“Enough of this,” Hashirama warned, and for once both of them fall silent. Really, they were worse than children. “I’ll be fine like this, I doubt that anyone but you is awake at such an hour. Takumi, be nice and bring some clean clothes after me to the office, will you?”

 

“Sure dad! Will you be wearing your Hokage hat today?”

 

“Err, no, I don’t think I need to.”

 

“Then can we play with it?”

 

“Sure you can,” he looked after the two boys dashing inside hearing that, suspecting his formal garbs would never be the same again, after they were done with them. Tobirama and Madara were glaring at him once more - as much as they disagreed on pretty much everything, on Hashirama’s discipline methods - or lack thereof - they shared a common view.

 

“Da-aad, can I come with you?” Aina asked, coming up to him and taking his hand, blinking up at him with wide-open, hopeful eyes that never failed to melt his heart.

 

“No darling, who will take care of your little brothers if you do?” And when she pouted at that, ready to cry, he hastily added, “I need to talk to your uncle now, but you can come after me later, hmm?”

 

“And you’ll have an excuse not to do any of your paperwork again,” Tobirama pointed out, seeing through him, but at least Aina’s threatening tears vanished.

 

He turned to Madara to give him a goodbye kiss, but dark eyes flashed at him in anger, warning that he shouldn’t try something like that in present company. He sighed, wishing for a cup of tea at least, but knowing that the longer he delayed the more he risked a quarrel to break out again between his brother and partner. It looked like it was going to be a long day.

 

 

*/*/*

 

 

Starting the day with Senju Tobirama was never a pleasant thing. When the white haired bastard was just back from a long journey, obviously tired but covering it with being even more haughty and rude than usual, it got as worse as it could. Madara knew he should just ignore him, that he didn’t deserve his attention, but just as usual he failed not to get angry with how he was ordering Hashirama around, how his lover let himself and how he always made a point of making some derogatory snide comments at him.

 

Damn him to hell for having the audacity to do it in front of the brats.

 

He stormed back into the house, to pull some clean clothes out for his lover, as he was really worse than a ten years old when it came to dressing himself. Realizing he was just doing what Tobirama suggested was his duty, his anger raised another notch. He threw the garments down on the floor, barely resisting setting them on fire with a well-placed jutsu.

 

Aina, who was on his heels, picked up and folded them quickly. She followed him out of the room as well.

 

“When do you have to leave today for the mission, Madara-san?”

 

“At noon,” he barked.

 

“Great! Can you practice with us before it then?” she asked excitedly, not put off by his tone the slightest.

 

“I thought you wanted to bring your father clean clothes with Takumi?”

 

“Yeah, but he can wait, can’t he? He wasn’t dressed _that_ bad. Training is more important.”

 

“I won’t go easy on you,” the Uchiha warned, but she just smiled broadly, not unlike Hashirama always did, and run off to fetch the other two.

 

Honestly, what was with this girl? As much as she loved his partner, she had the tendency to be clingy with Madara to a degree he could never really know what to make of.

 

It wasn’t used to be like this. She had been like a stranger in their home for quite a time, along with Takumi. At least for over a year, Madara couldn’t get used to their presence. When Hashirama had first talked about adoption, he imagined the kids they would take in were to be extraordinary, ninja geniuses, like they had been at that age, but it wasn’t what his lover had in mind. He rather went for the most left alone ones, those having no one to take care of them, the ones needing his tenderness the most… Madara didn’t even know why he was surprised.

 

“But they _are_ special!” Hashirama protested when he voiced his displeasure. In the end he let it at that, but hadn’t expected to get close to them, especially to Aina, as he never knew how to behave with females, be them any age.

 

So when she had fallen ill when Hashirama was away from the village, he’d felt she’d done it on purpose. After all, the duties of being the Hokage bound his lover to Konoha for pretty much all the time. It was suspicious that she chose those few days when he had to go away to meet the new Daimyo of the Land of Fire. But she hadn’t been pretending, that much became obvious instantly when he’d touched her forehead and found it burning hot under his palm.

 

To call for a medic would have looked like admitting defeat, as if he hadn’t been able to keep a child alive without Hashirama’s aid even for a few days. So he used all the practices he’d learned in the past, tea, cold clothes and herbs, staying vigil next to her bed with only the support of a worried Takumi. By the time his lover was back she was almost completely healed and Madara found that he’d formed a bond with the brats. Tricky little monsters.

 

Then Noboru was adopted into their home as well, and Madara realized he considered all of them as family now. The smallest of the three would never be particularly strong for an Uchiha, he was aware of that, but that didn’t matter as much as it used to. He needed Madara not as a teacher but as a father, needed them as the family he’d lost so young. He tried to disguise it on principle, but deep down he acknowledged he was happy to have not just Hashirama, but the kids as well. It was nice to be needed.

 

 

*/*/*

“So, was everything all right while I was away?” barely out on the street, Tobirama questioned him before he could ask about his visit to Uzushiogakure. He was just back – Hashirama suspected he came right to his house when he arrived home, but already ready to supervise him.

 

“Yes, I can actually lead this village for a few weeks without your aid,” he replied, rather annoyed.

 

“Hmm...” his brother glanced at him, clearly unconvinced. “I heard about yesterday’s attack.”

 

“It was nothing serious. Clashes like this are unavoidable, unfortunately. Our people weren’t harmed.”

 

“So you once again rushed out and fought instead of everyone else I take it?”

“Madara helped as well. No, listen,” he raised his hand before the younger man could berate him. “I know what you think, but why should I leave a fight like this to anyone else? Supposedly I’m the strongest shinobi here - I knew we could defeat Kumogakure’s attackers alone, so what would be the point of risking someone getting injured or die?”

“You know you can’t be everywhere and protect everyone,” Tobirama said quietly.

 

“But I can try.”

 

For a few minutes they were quiet as they walked the not-so-empty streets. Trying not to yawn too obviously, Hashirama smiled at everyone who stopped to greet them.

 

“I’ve told you that you should get dressed properly. People will think you even stranger than you are and... do you have a bruise on your neck?”

 

“Uhh, I might have,” the older Senju grinned without any shame, rubbing the spot where Madara bit him rather hard last night.

 

“Can’t you heal it or at least cover it? There’s no need for everyone to know your deranged ways...”

 

“Do you think they don’t suspect anything yet?” When Tobirama glared at him, he hooked his arm over his neck and dragged him close. “Ah, come on brother, the village has accepted my _deranged ways_ , don’t you think it’s due time you do as well?”

 

“Let me go you big oaf...”  

“I won’t, until I hear you admitting that you don’t care what I do with Madara behind closed doors!” he laughed as his brother made half-hearted attempts to escape his hold.

 

“I certainly don’t care until you really do it behind _closed_ doors!”

 

“Now come on, that was an only time and you should have knocked...”

 

“It was your office! Who would have thought you’re up to something like _that_ in your office! And I always sit on that desk...! Well, I _used to_ sit on it, bleh...”

 

“Now, don’t be a prude...”

 

“Uhm, Hokage-sama? Excuse me...”

 

Hashirama let go of his little brother, who glared at him for being caught at doing something as disgraceful as struggling and laughing with him publicly.

 

“Sarutobi-san! Good morning,” he greeted the short, stringy man standing in front of them.

 

“Hokage-sama, Tobirama-san,” he bowed to them. “Hokage-sama,” he started again, “my son told me how you saved him and his friend in the attack last night and I want to thank you. They shouldn’t have been there at all, but I’m afraid Hiruzen is rather reckless and drags Danzo with him into trouble all the time...”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hashirama smiled. “It’s my duty to protect them. They are good boys, the both of them, and will make excellent shinobi, someone who will make their clans proud as they get older, I’m sure.”

 

“Yes, but... that jutsu would have killed them if you haven’t arrived in time, and Hiruzen is my only child still alive. I don’t know what...”

 

“He is unharmed,” Hashirama clasped his shoulder, “and that’s what matters.”

 

“Yes, thanks to you,” Sarutobi pulled himself together, looking ashamed about becoming teary eyed, but Hashirama understood him. He was worried for his children all the time himself. “Tobirama-san, you can be very proud of your brother.”

 

“I am,” the white haired man replied, surprising the older Senju very pleasantly. They continued on in silence for a while. “You know,” he said when they have reached the Hokage building. “I _am_ proud of you, so I should let you do your things as you want to do them. Our methods are different, but you have planned and founded this village after all.”

 

“Are you feeling alright?” Hashirama asked, totally dumbfounded. “You’ve never told me anything even remotely so nice.”

 

“I’ll take it back if you’re like that!”

 

“So,” he peered at his brother as they entered his office. “How did the visit to Uzushiogakure go?”

 

“Good.”

 

“And does it have to do anything with your uncharacteristic compliment on my leadership skills?”

 

“No! Well... maybe.” Ignoring his usual spot on the desk, Tobirama went to stand in front of the window. “I might have less time for a while so I’m relieved if you’re holding up alright alone. I’m getting married,” he said, unwaveringly showing his back to Hashirama’s surprised glance.

 

“You’re _what_?! How come? Who’s the lucky girl?”

 

“Uzumaki Mito,” Tobirama moved as if he wanted to turn around, but changed his mind and continued to stare out at the _very_ interesting scenery.

 

“Isn’t she the one who...”

 

“Yes, she is.”

 

“Ah, I see...” he scratched his head, not sure how to ask it without being rude. “So is this for the political benefits only or...”

 

“She’s actually rather nice,” Tobirama sighed and finally turned to face him. “Smart and pretty. Of course it’s mostly to enforce the bond between our clans but... yeah, I think I like her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“Great,” Hashirama smiled at him, and some tension eased from his frame.

 

“So you don’t mind?”

 

“Why would I?” he was honestly baffled. “I don’t even know her! So... what’s she like?”

 

“Hmm. A redhead. Quiet and smart. Has a nice figure - slender, but has the curves ” he formed cups with his hands in front of his chest,  showing what he meant and Hashirama laughed.

 

“That’s no way to talk about your bride!”

 

“Now who’s the prude? Gods... I can’t believe I’m getting married.”

 

“My little brother,” Hashirama smirked. “Make her some babies soon, so the kids can play together.”

 

“Easy for you to say, when you’ve gotten them ready-made,” the white haired man muttered.

 

“Tobirama?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do me a favour, please. Only marry her if you really want to. Not because I won’t have children of my own or something... ”

 

“Don’t worry brother. I really want to.”

 

He didn’t say out loud that their father would have been proud, as both knew he wouldn’t be of Hashirama. That never bothered him - the old man had been terribly conservative in his views on life, duty and Uchihas - but it did matter for Tobirama. Anyhow, his little brother getting married was big news, and when he’d have kids on his own, would be even bigger.

 

He was aware that many in their clan were unhappy that he wouldn’t father children. It was one thing for him to live with Madara, but why did that keep him from taking a wife and making sure the bloodline was carried on, they couldn’t fathom. So like this maybe they would fall silent finally.

 

For him his three children were as loved as if they were from his own blood. Though all of them had dealt with it differently, they were through severe traumas, losing their original families. Ninjas were untrustworthy parents - nobody could be sure which would be the fight they never returned from. It was amazing how the kids could deal with it, how they’d opened their hearts to Madara and him, how they accepted each other as brothers and sisters.

 

 

*/*/*

 

 

In the end he decided to stay home that day. The mission he was given wasn’t something that required his attendance; the others could do it without him easily. Though rejecting a task he was assigned to wasn’t something he was supposed to do, being the lover of the Hokage had some advantages. Now and then he could afford to play on it.

 

Madara knew he got more angered on Tobirama’s snide comment that it was worth it, but it kept pestering him. Even after all these years he still liked to suggest that he wasn’t good enough for his brother… and it resonated with the deeply hidden fear inside the Uchiha, that he was right. So if he wanted to be particularly honest with himself, something he wasn’t that keen on, staying home to practice with the kids was a way to prove to himself, prove to Hashirama that he could do _this_. Be a father, a caring lover, someone who deserved a family and happiness. Some days he could convince himself so. Other days, like this one, his doubts just gnawed him no matter what he did, making him irritated and snapping at everyone.

 

Funny how the kids never seemed to mind how it was always him who disciplined them, not Hashirama. They never appeared to care less for him because of it. Strange creatures, children were, especially orphans. All three of them were obviously elated that he decided to spend the whole day with them, even if he found mistake in everything, from the way they were holding a kunai down to how their sash were knotted too loosely.

 

Slowly his tension eased, as he watched them. They might have not born with any extraordinary skills, but they were definitely ready to practice hard and bring out the best of them. That made him proud. They were good children and he could admit that having them was one of his lover’s good ideas.

 

They weren’t unlike he used to be, with his brothers and later with Hashirama as well. Life had been harsh on them, uncaring of their tender age, but still they had the strength that seemed to come naturally, to shake off the bad things, to be able to trust and love. Funny, how these were traits he loved in his partner as well. He smirked to himself. It just proved that Hashirama was infantile. But yes, his attitude towards life always helped Madara to see things in a bit better light as well.

 

 

 

*/*/*

 

Hashirama nodded to the elite ninja giving her report about the damage that was made last night, encouraging her to go on, though he had to repress a yawn.  It appeared that too many of Konoha’s population were morning persons who were all happy that he appeared in his office sooner than usual. Reports to listen to, decisions to make, disagreements to smooth. A few people dropped by to say they were grateful for his and Madara’s protection and efficient fighting with the attackers. As Tobirama went on his business - he was tired after his travel - and wasn’t there to hiss at him when he delayed too much with one person, he took the time to chat with them. Soon, Takumi arrived with a clean set of clothes and a box he hoped contained breakfast, so he excused themselves and was left alone with his son for a short time.

 

There was breakfast and he got a curt letter from Madara as well, saying _‘It amazes me that you’re the Hokage but you can’t even dress properly alone.’_ He smiled and put the piece of paper into his drawer.

 

“I thought Aina wanted to come as well.”

 

“I can’t stay either, Dad,” Takumi told him promptly. He was a skinny boy, so full of life that he could hardly stay put for a minute. He was the one who usually convinced the timid Noboru and Aina, who actually never required much convincing, to cause some mischief. “Madara-san didn’t have to go on a mission today, so he’ll be practicing with us!”

 

“Oh, I didn’t even know.”

 

“Yeah, and he said he’ll teach Noboru the Fireball Technique today, and I don’t want to miss it!”

 

“Really? But he’s only seven...”

 

“Madara-san told us that every Uchiha can do it. I wish,” he sighed, “I was an Uchiha too. But he said that as he’s raising us, Aina and I will be powerful shinobi as well.”

 

“I can also teach you a few good jutsu,” Hashirama offered. “The Senjus are not bad either. There’s this water style...”

 

“Err, thanks Dad, but fire techniques are so much cooler.”

 

“Oh… Never let your uncle hear that.”

 

“See you in the evening!”

 

He looked after his son as he dashed away – did ten years olds ever just _walked_ anywhere - torn between amusement and worry. Noboru was _really_ too young for something as serious as a fireball.

 

All of them were, in his opinion, too young for serious practice. Aina, the oldest was eleven, Takumi ten and the smallest, Noboru, only seven. He had hoped that his children, and all children in the village, wouldn’t need to learn how to be shinobi so early. But he also knew Madara’s reason behind it.

 

Konoha, though it provided a much more secure childhood than their own ever was, had never managed to be the safe heaven he’d, naively, hoped it would be. Ninjas were creatures of war, as Madara so often told him, and their children were no exception. If they didn't start their training as early as the others, they’d stand less chance in their first life-and-death fight. The Sarutobi and Shimura boys he’d saved last night were just a year or two older than Aina. In no time she and Takumi would be out fighting in an attack like yesterday’s and Noboru wouldn’t be left behind for long. But a Fireball at the age of seven...?

 

Still, what could he do? Obviously he couldn’t forbid Madara to train them, and maybe all Uchiha started to learn the fire techniques at such a tender age. So in the end the just run his mind through all the healing jutsu that were good for burn marks and hoped for the best.

 

 

*/*/*

 

 

“Dad thinks Noboru too young for the fireball,” Takumi whispered to him, making sure his little Uchiha brother couldn’t hear it. “Madara-san, isn’t it dangerous…”

 

“He can do it,” Madara replied, more confident than he felt. It pissed him off that Hashirama had the audacity to doubt his methods, even if he had them himself. But it wouldn’t hurt the kid to try. After all, he _had to_ be able to do it sooner or later, all from their clan could. And though he was just seven, he didn’t think him too young. Madara did it when he was five after all, but had been considered a special case… Izuna had been the same age as his adopted son, so maybe that’s why he thought the time was right.

 

He watched anxiously as Noboru took a deep breath, filling up his tiny lungs to the maximum and formed the hand-signs as he taught him. A puff of smoke erupted from his mouth as a result.

 

“I’ll try it again!” he cried before Madara could feel disappointed. He looked down when he felt Aina trying to take his hand. She looked as nervous as he felt, so he clasped it.

 

“Come on Noboru, you can do it!” Takumi yelled then, unable to conceal his own excitement any longer and Madara couldn’t help but smile. They were good kids, not jealous of their brother, but supporting.

 

“Of course I can!” the youngest yelled back, coughing up the fume still, and tossed his head in a way he probably learned from Madara. He didn’t succeed on second or third try, but on the forth, there were finally flames, not just smoke.

 

“One more time,” he told him quietly, and he did dutifully. This time the fire took the shape of a ball. Not a very big one, but enough to warm his heart. It wasn’t that bad to be a father, after all.

 

He’d make his lover pay for his doubts. And for his brother’s words as well, he hadn’t forgiven that either…

 

 

*/*/*

Hashirama successfully managed to conceal his relief to see them all unharmed save for a few bruises in the evening. Madara had a sixth sense for telling when he wasn’t trusting enough and always took revenge on him for it.

 

“I did it! Dad, I did it!” Noboru yelled when he saw him, running up to him. He must have been peering out on the window to catch him as soon as he appeared on the street. Hashirama laughed as he picked him up to spin him around.

 

“I was sure you could.”

 

He let him climb up to his back and cling to him with his legs and arms like an overexcited little monkey. He was the shyest of the three children - an orphan since the age of five. For over a year he only trusted to Madara, being wary of Hashirama and his new brother and sister. He just recently started to call him dad, like the other two. To see him this joyful was a real bliss, so he reminded himself again that his lover knew what he was doing, even if they took a different approach in the raising of the kids.

 

Then Aina and Takumi were there as well, telling him in breathless chatter what they’ve accomplished that day. It took ages it finally go inside with the way they were all but tearing him apart, all three of them wanting his attention at the same time. Not that he wasn’t enjoying it. A lot.

 

“Can Madara-san stay home more often to teach us?” their daughter was asking hopefully.

 

“ _Madara-san_ has other things to do than to babysit you all the time,” it was his lover who replied. He was putting away shurikens and kunais, not looking up as they entered. Hashirama wondered if he was angry with him for something. “But your father can surely get you a competent mentor.”

 

“I guess I can.” He didn’t mention that the five men he so far appointed to take care of and teach their children hadn’t met Madara’s approval. He put down their youngest, who was rather reluctant to unlock his arms from around his neck and went to kneel next to his partner to help his put away the practice weapons. “I thought you had to go on a mission today?”

 

Madara peered at him from under his hair with narrowed eyes.

 

“It wasn’t something that required my skills.”

 

“Oh. I’m happy that you’re home,” he hastened to add.

 

“Hmm.”

 

“All right - what have I done?”

 

“Nothing. The cook left the dinner for us a while ago. Tell the brats to wash their hands and sit down.”

 

“How’s Uncle Tobirama?” Aina asked with her mouth full when they were sitting around the table. Hashirama wished she hadn’t, as he suspected his brother was the cause of Madara’s displeasure with him.

 

“He’s good... better than good actually. Getting married it seems.”

 

“Who’s the victim?” his lover asked sarcastically.

 

“Uzumaki Mito...”

 

“Isn’t she the one who...”

 

“She is.”

 

“Hah,” Madara smirked. “So he only gets what you discarded?”

 

“It’s not like that - I didn’t even know her!” Hashirama protested, affronted on his brother’s behalf. “I never agreed to marry her in the first place... And he actually seems to like her... at least he was talking about her boobs...”

 

He peered at the children and quickly cut himself off. Their youngest seemed to be falling asleep slumped in his chair, but other two was paying keen attention. Madara muttered something he couldn’t make out, so he quickly changed the subject.

 

“Noboru told me he could do the fireball today...”

 

“Yes,” Madara couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice. “But Aina and Takumi did well too.”

 

“I wasn’t sure if they were old enough...”

 

“Well, someone has to teach them how to survive. If it was up to you, they’d only learn how to abuse their position when sneaking into a pub with a kid well under the appropriate age, and lose their money on gambling.”

 

Hashirama glanced at his daughter at that, but all the sudden she was busy staring at the contents of her bowl. She promised she wouldn’t tell...

 

Well, at least Madara was satisfied with them and they’ve also seemed very happy with their accomplishments. As a bonus, on that night there weren’t any arguments about getting into bed, the way all three of them were tired out.

 

Back in their own room, Hashirama watched his partner pacing back and forth for a while. When he just couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up to stand in his way and grabbed his arms when he wanted to shove him away.

 

“You could try not to be angry with me every time Tobirama shows up,” Madara snorted, but he was now sure he got the cause of his irritation right. “I know he sometimes says unfair things - just ignore it. I’ll talk to him.”

 

“Hmph. As if I care,” still he let himself be embraced close and slowly started to relax in his arms.

 

“He won’t separate us, I hope you know,” he added. The other man pulled away, but he seemed more melancholic than furious now. Hashirama let it at that - he’d come around, he was sure, he always did. He started to undress, getting ready for bed. When he felt those dark eyes drilling into him, he glanced up, winking in invitation, but Madara seemed dead serious still.

 

“Don’t you have regrets?” he asked quietly.

 

“Regrets? About what?”

 

“Now that your brother gets to marry the Uzumaki woman... don’t you wish you’ve chosen that, to be in his stead? To have a wife, a _normal_ family...”

 

“My family is absolutely normal, thank you very much! Why would I want to change anything? I’m happy like this. Or... do _you_ have regrets?” he asked with suspicion.

 

“Every day,” Madara waved his hand dismissively, but he could see a small, satisfied smile in the corners of his mouth that he didn’t manage to hide.

 

“Is that so? Let me try to chase them away,” he quickly shed the remaining of his clothing and sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his hand out for his lover.

 

“You’re nothing but a pig, who thinks sex is the answer to everything,” despite his words he came to him, kneeling on the mattress, straddling his thighs. Hashirama kissed his neck and holding him close, undid his clothing with one hand. As if the years, all that nights together hadn’t passed, he found his partner just as intoxicating as always before. And really, who said sex couldn’t be the answer for everything? It worked well most of the time…

 

“It’s rather lucky that we’re not a _normal_ couple,” he chuckled into the wild black mane he loved so much, unthinking of his words, “We’d probably have a dozen of kids by now if you were a woman.”

 

Madara went stiff in his arms at that. Before he could amend his words, his hair was grabbed in a rough grip and his head forced backwards.

 

“I might just kill you for that comment,” the Uchiha hissed. Hashirama tried to look innocent and apologetic. When that didn’t work, he caressed the other’s back and buttocks, but his hands were shoved away. “I don’t want you to touch me right now.”

 

“I didn’t mean...”

 

“It was a disgusting thing to say!”

 

“I’m sorry,” to prove how sorry he was, he wanted to kiss him, but Madara just held him off with an arm across his neck.

 

“I said, don’t touch me.” Still, he didn’t get off from his lap. Hashirama was already hard from his closeness, debating if no really meant no this time. It was difficult to decide with Madara sometimes.  “Do you want me to tie you up?” he snapped when the Senju caressed him again.

 

“Well, if that gets me what I want...”

 

Madara opened his mouth to berate him, but when he caught his eyes, fell silent. Hashirama couldn’t help but grin as he thrust his hips up, showing he wouldn’t mind it at all.

 

“You’re incorrigible,” Madara rolled his eyes, but he also bit his lower lip, a small, but sure sign that he was aroused by the idea. He stood up and hit the Senju’s hand when he tried to reach out to him. “No touching. Lie down.”

 

Hashirama did so, and in a minute his hands were tied to the headboard with his sash. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t get out of in a heartbeat, but it still excited him. Yes, after over five years of being together he found his lover just as irresistible as on the first night. To make it even better, this was something new - the Uchiha rarely took the initiative in bed, and though Hashirama certainly liked to be in control, he was happy to try out different things. Really - he was happy every time when Madara didn’t try to disguise he wanted him as well. And he would have done anything his partner wanted anyhow.

 

Now that he got him at his mercy, Madara looked unsure what to do. Hashirama was already reaching up to pull him down for a kiss - he was just too tempting when he tried to mask his nervousness - just to be stopped by his bonds. A slow, predatory smile broke out on his lover’s face.

 

“This might be a good idea after all.”

 

“Don’t tease me...”

 

Not bothering with an answer, Madara poured oil on his hands and started to stroke him. Every time Hashirama’s arms strained against the belt, wanting to turn their positions, he stopped his movements and glared at him until he lay back with a frustrated sigh.

 

“This is actually a lesson to you,” the shorter man told him, as he straddled his hips and slowly pushed down on his erection. “A lesson about... fuck...” he was silent for a while, rocking his hips just slightly, until Hashirama’s hardness was buried in him till the root, before he started to ride him. “A lesson about self-restraint. What you don’t have any.”

 

“I’m all about self-restraint!” Hashirama protested, though he was battling himself, trying to remain still and not ruin Madara’s game.

 

“No you’re not. You always just do what crosses your mind,” Madara was moving oh-so slowly, driving him insane with want. He longed to kiss his closed lids, bury his nose in his hair and grab his bony hips to bury himself deeper into his body. “And what’s worse, you just do whatever asked of you as well. No role model for the kids...”

 

“I like to spoil them,” Hashirama admitted with a grin. Madara’s eyes snapped open to glare at him, but he didn’t stop rocking down onto his erection and his slender fingers roamed softly, teasingly his chest, scraping nails against his nipples, digging into his sides for support.

 

“You spoil them rotten.”

 

“I just want them to be happy.”

 

“They’d be happy even if you were stricter...”

 

“I want _you_ to be happy as well.”

 

“Hmm...”

 

“Are you happy?”

 

“Shut up, I can’t concentrate if you keep talking.”

 

He was moving faster now, impaling himself deeply on Hashirama’s cock. Though the Senju wasn’t surprised at the lack of answer, he still wished Madara would just tell him straight sometimes how he felt. Like this, he could only read from the smallest of signs and that was not easy...

 

“I can’t come if you make that face!” Madara was leaning over him, his hair falling like a tent around them.

 

“What...”

 

“The kicked puppy face! Idiot Senju... I’m here with you, ain’t I?” he kissed him, and Hashirama was grinning again when their lips parted. Madara just snorted, closing his eyes again, moving with purpose now, his hand stroking his own erection. He moaned and shuddered as he reached his orgasm, his semen splattering Hashirama’s chest. He slumped forward and the taller man found it harder than ever to remain still, when he was so close to his own peak as well.

 

His lover raised his head, smiling in satisfaction. But before the night could get even better, a loud crash came from outside their room, followed by the muffled, nervous whisper of the kids.

 

“What the hell...” Madara dismounted him quickly, looking around for his clothes and he couldn’t grab him because that damn bond to keep him with him, on him.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” Hashirama lied. “Finish me first...”

 

“You stay here. I’m back in a minute. Do you hear it? Don’t move your arms.” Madara ordered, before he stormed out without a glance back. Oh, damn…

 

Aroused and cold without his partner’s closeness, Hashirama sighed and tried to find a more comfortable position without pulling his hands from the bindings. He really hoped it would only be a minute as Madara might have been right about him not having much self-restraint...

 

 

*/*/*

 

 

So there were good parts in being a parent and there were the bad parts as well. The lack of undisturbed sex with his lover being one of them. The number of things that mysteriously got broken, another one.

 

He didn’t get any answer how exactly the huge and invaluable vase, that was passed down in the Uchiha clan from generations long passed away, ended up in the kids room and even less who and how shattered it to a million little pieces, so he made all three of them take part in the cleaning up. Guilty glances were shot at each other, but he wasn’t touched. If they were not sleepy even after a day of training, then they surely had the energy for other housework as well? He watched them work with folded arms, repressing his own yawns.

 

What the hell were they doing up still? It was really the worst of timing as well, and that made him angrier than the loss of porcelain, something he’d never been particularly fond of.

 

He shifted his weight, feeling uncomfortably stretched and slippery _down there_. He sent a frown in the direction of their suspiciously silent bedroom. He would have expected Hashirama to finish alone what they had started by now – how long tossing off could take - and to come and help, not that he was any use when the brats needed some discipline.  

 

Still, usually he was next to him at times like this, scratching his head, telling him in whispers that kids were kids, and that he’d done worse things at this age. Madara always replied that he used to know what was expected of him even at ten and his only rebel against their parents was how he kept meeting him in secret on that river bank, hence every time their children misbehaved it was obviously the Senju’s fault only, for being bad influence.

 

He quickly erased his smile as he didn’t want the little monsters to know he wasn’t that much cross with them. It was enough that their _other_ father was a complete fool with a too big and too soft heart. His strictness was why they listened and looked up to him, and also why they thought him _cooler_ than Hashirama, something that pleased Madara to no end. They were the only people in the whole village, at the whole Land of Fire, who considered Madara the stronger of the two of them.

 

He was sure that as they grew older, they would realize the deep roots of the Senju’s strength which kept Konoha together, which kept their family together. He was, after all, like an ancient oak tree, protective and unbreakable, even if he liked to act like a moron. But that was all right, that’s how he could remain carefree and so full of life. He was the only one who could chase his own bitterness away, make him want to stay and _live._

 

 

*/*/*

 

 

Hashirama woke up to find his lover standing next to the bed, his arms folded in front of his chest.

 

“You could have come to help, you know.”

 

“Well, you told me to stay here...”

 

“So if I tell you to jump off a cliff, will you do it? No,” he interrupted quickly when the Senju wanted to reply. “Actually don’t answer that.”

 

He shed his clothing and get in the bed, wiping off any dried white patches from his chest before putting his head down on it. Hashirama sighed, realizing they wouldn’t be continuing what the children interrupted, and freed his wrists at last.

 

“I wanted to keep you like that,” Madara muttered when he embraced him.

 

“Oh? For how long?” No reply came, so he just caressed his hair and pulled him close. Soon he was drifting off to sleep again. When his lover whispered he wasn’t even sure if he heard or just imagined him to say it.

 

“Forever.”

  
  
**/*/*/*FIN/*/*/*/**

 

_**Art drawn by[粥七杏](http://www.baidu.com/p/%E7%B2%A5%E4%B8%83%E6%9D%8F?from=msg) and used with permission of the artist. Thank you!** _


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